


Phoebus

by oraclemyths



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Ancient Greece, Fluff, God/Human, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Future Character Death, Love, M/M, Olympians, Pining, Short One Shot, Soft!Apollo, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, apollo needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oraclemyths/pseuds/oraclemyths
Summary: "I do not care for your gifts, I care only for you"In which Apollo falls for a mortal prince, but this prince is all but too aware of what happens to men who lay with Gods.
Relationships: Apollo/Hyacinthus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 50





	Phoebus

The more days I spent with the God, the more I came to forget who I was. His beauty was unique in ways I grew to learn were a part of him and not his divinity. Apollo was divine, but held life in ways the other Olympians could not. He was beautiful. His eyes were the purest of blues, so clear they could rival the seas, flecked with the golden rays of his sun. The curve of his mouth - soft and sweet, the fullness of his lips, the scattering of freckles that reflected the realm of his sister and the stars that lay within. He was beautiful, and he would be my downfall. 

“Hyacinthus stay with me. Join me on Olympus.” His voice was as melodic and soothing as the lyre he strummed, fingers skilled and deft. I would often watch him play until I could barely make out the plucking of the strings from the darkness of Ouranos above. I was enraptured by his music, a slave to my ears. I looked up from the ocean, my eyes meeting his. He did not fail to stun me with his beauty, as he always did. I paused, threading my fingers through the long blades of grass that I sat upon. The answer was simple, but I knew it was deeper than what it was. Would there be consequences? I knew very well what happened to foolish mortals who fell for the divine. I promised myself, I told myself, I would never be one of them. But here I was, barely a man and falling for Apollo the way Phaethon fell from the sky. Every second I spent in his presence was another of me falling. 

“I cannot.” 

The melody stopped, a harsh staccato. He looked at me, confusion woven between his features like his fingers between the strings. 

“You cannot? Or you will not?” The God’s voice rose in pitch, and I could feel the air around me getting warmer with every fibre of my body. How swiftly the heat came frightened me. How swiftly if left terrified me more. I remembered my place. He was divine, I was a mortal destined to fade. 

“I cannot, I must not. You know this to be true.” I looked away. It was easier this way. Avoiding his gaze was weak, dishonourable, but it was easier to tell him the truth. 

“We would be happy for eternity,” Apollo shifted and pressed our lips together. Even for a brief second the sweetness of his touch made every nerve quiver. Every touch of his was soft, and the feeling that came with it was once unknown to me. He became serious at the absence of my response, a slight tremor in his lip. The gold in his eyes dulled, the blue sharp and prominent. The sun framed his hair like a crown of heavenly fire and the feeling in my chest only grew. 

“You would have no worries and only know happiness.” His voice was as soft as the dawn and as sweet as ambrosia. 

“Happiness.” I repeated, the word barely a whisper. 

The promise of it was addictive. I had known brief snatches of joy before, it had burned in my memory, along with him. I knew I could not have it forever, but I yearned for it with every nerve, thoughts running wild with desire, want. 

“Will you go?” His thumb brushed against my cheek, soft and gentle. 

“I cannot go on the promise of a lie. And you lie so beautifully.” 

“Why would I lie? I offered you something men can only dream of. Why refuse?” 

“You do not know of humanity like I do, you do not know of happiness as I do. My fate has already been woven by the Moirae, Clotho’s threads have already been spun into place. My humanity is short and that is what makes it precious. Yes, my happiness is as fleeting as the winds of Zephyrs in the dark winter months, but that is its nature. My humanity is a gift from the Gods and I cannot abandon it. Do you think the Fates would allow such a thing? Make no mistake - I love you dearly and fiercely, and that is why I cannot make this promise. My time with you is what I cherish most, being with you for eternity will make my memories worthless. You have your fate, and I must live through mine.” 

I thought my argument was strong, but his answer was a harsh reminder of my own insignificance. 

“But I can change your fate – I have the divine powers of the Oracle.” 

He was desperate, I could tell. He was so good at assuring me in this way, making me believe his words were truth. I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes once more, memorising the swirls of gold between the blue. After committing them to memory, I spoke, never so sure of anything as I was now. 

“I do not care for your gifts, I care only for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my short story! I wrote this a few years ago for my English coursework and I've always been (secretly) proud of it and since we're entering the greek myth renaissance I thought I'd throw caution to the wind and upload it on here :)


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